


if you love somebody

by liginamite



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Accidental Exhibitionism, Established Relationship, Kink Meme, M/M, Pre-Movie, and feelings, sex on the loccent console, this is literally just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:49:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liginamite/pseuds/liginamite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a lot of perks to being Tendo Choi, and a few are as followed: getting to claim privacy in LOCCENT pretty much whenever he wants, and getting to have sex with Yancy Becket on the regular. Sometimes the two collide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you love somebody

**Author's Note:**

> so. carefully leaves this here, claims nothing, runs away, I WROTE PORN OH MAN i haven't published written porn in something like three years oh jeez
> 
> okay but yeah i ship this a lot enjoy thank you for reading!!!!!

Tendo doesn’t look up when the staccato beat of footsteps echo on the LOCCENT deck, already feeling irritation prickling the hairs on the back of his neck.

“LOCCENT’s off limits for the night, thank you,” Tendo explains loudly, deft fingers working a pattern into the hologram, the reflection of the colors painting his skin blue and red and violet. “Marshall’s orders. I need to think.” When the footsteps stop behind his chair, he glances over his shoulder with the intent to chew someone’s ear off and instead finds Yancy with an eyebrow raised. “Uh, I don’t recall you being exempt from the rule, Becket boy.”

“Oh, but I am,” Yancy responds, and his added weight to Tendo’s chair makes it creak as he leans over to check the data. “And you know it.”

Tendo rolls his eyes.

“You’re a brat, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you love me,” is the predictable response, and Tendo rolls his eyes. There’s silence in the room as he works, moving equations and small figures around, manipulating the hologram with precision only someone with an intense amount of experience could hope to accomplish. Finally, he moves a symbol over and with a flourish, pulls the data in towards his chest and then sets it down into the console with the air of finality. It beeps once in confirmation, loud and cheerful in the quiet of the enormous room. He sighs, rubbing at his eyes before tilting his head upwards to glance at Yancy, his expression tired as ever, but mischievous. Yancy raises both eyebrows this time as Tendo grins up at him. 

“You still here?”

“I thought I could keep you company,” Yancy replies easily, all of that boyish charm he’s so famous for in the tilt of his head and the grin on his face. Tendo narrows his eyes at him, but otherwise doesn’t respond. “Maybe offer some post-work relaxation, as it were. You earned it.”

“Ah, one of the many, _many_ perks of being me.” 

Yancy chuckles and reaches down, running his fingers feather-light against the line of Tendo’s jaw. They’re calloused and smell like cheap soap and the coppery tang of metal, and the touch sends a shiver down his spine.

“Off-limits, huh?” Yancy asks in a low voice, and Tendo cranes his neck a little, brushes a kiss against his lips. Fingers find the curled letters on Tendo’s throat, tracing each word until he gets to the R, and he’s clearly itching to sink beneath the high collar of Tendo’s uniform. Tendo manages to keep himself steady, his expression light and careful.

“Mm. Maybe,” he drawls, the word stretched into several more syllables. 

“Is everything off limits?” Yancy asks, and his thumb finds the spot behind Tendo’s ear that makes him shudder. He knows where it is, too, the bastard, because he’s spent several nights searching in dark rooms. Tendo breathes out his nose, slowly, and doesn’t respond when Yancy spins the chair and kisses him as soon as it’s stopped. 

Kissing Yancy is kind of what Tendo imagines drifting to be like. He’s never personally drifted himself, but he’s overseen the process plenty of times, and the shortness of breath, the warmth pooling in his stomach, the very sense of being and belonging that comes with Yancy’s big hands and sweet smile and twinkling eyes… it must be the same. He chases it, rising a little out of his seat when Yancy grins against his lips, pulling away a little.

“You teasing _brat,_ ” Tendo mutters again, with more vehemence, and Yancy laughs, leans down and kisses him again, his support the arms that rest on either side of the chair. Tendo’s fingers find his hair, weaving into short bristles and tugging until Yancy’s breath whooshes out of him in a hurried rush.

There’s a dip in the console where the holograms make their home and Yancy grabs Tendo by the thighs, still kissing him, and hauls him up before he can so much as yelp, pressing him down against the hard metal. There are buttons pressing uncomfortably against Tendo’s back but he doesn’t really give a shit at the moment because Yancy’s mouthing at his neck again, warm and wet and very enthusiastic. 

Yancy pushes at him when he tries to lean up, his fingers working to tug Tendo’s uniform shirt out of the hem of his pants, but there are so many goddamn hoops to jump through, blazer and suspenders and a goddamn tie to tug off. Eventually he’s got the blazer off and Tendo’s shirt open and he attacks swirls of black ink with his mouth like it’s his damn job. Tendo’s head knocks against the metal console with a dull thunk, a grin on his face. He’s tugging at Yancy’s thin t-shirt, tugging it up and over his head and admiring the expanse of skin that is his prize.

“Going in for the prize, Becket, I’m impressed,” he quips, and Yancy bites a nipple playfully. “ _Ah_.”

“Nothing less than the best,” he teases, and crawls up the (admittedly short) length of Tendo’s body, and Tendo can feel the warm press of his cock through the thick material of his pants. Standard issue for casual wear around the shatterdome, and it’s a pity really that it has to be so heavy. Tendo’s always been an avid admirer of a particularly great behind, and Lord knows the Beckets have some truly _spectacular_ asses.

“A little excited, are we?” Tendo points out, and Yancy genuinely rolls his eyes before leaning down to kiss him again.

It’s a kiss that’s loaded, something more than it seems, something that Tendo’s willing to explore. Kissing Yancy is different from kissing a one night stand, or a friend with benefits, it’s kissing _Yancy_ , it’s kissing someone he may very well be in love with, and as he hooks his arms around Yancy’s neck and pulls him closer, deepening kiss until Yancy moans into his mouth, he thinks to himself that he’s willing to work with that. 

“Shit, _Tendo_ ,” Yancy mutters, and Tendo grins against his lips, trailing his hands down until he can unzip Yancy’s pants, unabashedly tugging them down and wrapping his hand around Yancy’s cock, swallowing the startled gasp that bubbles up. He hums in question, vaguely, already knowing the answer, and Yancy rolls his hips against him, pushing himself harder into Tendo’s curled fist and kissing him with more ferocity, more intent than before, strong arms braced on either side of Tendo’s head. Jesus, his biceps are _bulging._

“No one’s gonna come up here?” Yancy mutters finally, still working his hips, and Tendo squeezes his hand a little, eliciting another choked moan.

“Marshall’s orders. At my discretion. Being a senior technician has its perks, too, you know.” 

“Good,” Yancy breathes the word into his skin and it’s _delightful._ “Good. ‘cause I’ve got plans, Mr. Choi.”

“Oh, really,” Tendo says, going for smug, but then Yancy’s got his hands in the crook of Tendo’s knees and he’s pulling their hips flush together and smug is sort of an irrelevant emotion at the moment. Tendo’s head falls back, a moan of due appreciation grumbling in his throat as he rubs himself against Yancy’s still unfortunately covered erection. “What sort of plans?”

“Premeditated.” Yancy wiggles his eyebrows, and Tendo literally sighs.

“ _Really?_ ”

“Hey, I thought it was a good line.” Yancy actually pouts at him, though there isn’t a lot of sincerity to it, and carefully pulls out the tiny bottle of lube and the wrapped condom from one of his pockets, waving them a little. Tendo puffs out an exasperated breath through his nose. There isn’t really a lot of time for tests, especially in Anchorage at the end of the world, and it’s awkward to ask the local ME in the dome for STD tests, so he’ll begrudgingly appreciate that he at least snagged himself a proper gentleman. 

“Besides,” Yancy continues, ruts a little until Tendo’s letting out soft moans of appreciation, his cheek pressing into console. “This is the closest thing to office sex we’re going to get. And I _know_ you’re not vanilla.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tendo grumbles, and pointedly lifts his hips again. Yancy grins again and his fingers are reaching up, unbuttoning and unzipping trousers, tugging at them until they pool to the floor in a heap of corduroy. The metal is cold against the back of his thighs and he shivers, goosebumps rising across his arms. But Yancy just kisses him again, and the audible click of the bottle cap being popped open echos against the iron floors. 

They’ve done this before, albeit on a bed and in significantly closer quarters, but the feeling is the same, Yancy’s fingers finding the pace that makes him moan, first one and then two, until Tendo’s bucking his hips with it, desperate to feel the hot press of skin and fingers and pressure building at the base of his spine. Yancy’s got his mouth on Tendo’s neck again, sucking a mark into the dip of his shoulder, nipping and sucking as he makes his way across, maps the skin beneath his lips. 

Tendo reaches down again, finds warm skin and rubs at the pre-come beading at the tip of Yancy’s cock and grinning when it elicits a startled moan into his skin. Yancy fumbles, pressing the packet into Tendo’s open palm and nipping him again, soothing the hurt with his tongue. 

“C’mon,” he mutters, and his hips jerk again when Tendo’s fingers leave his cock, finding the packet and clumsily tearing it open with his teeth. He’s shaking with anticipation and a little bit of nerves because every time there’s something more to this than a simple fuck, this is something he can’t take back any more because he has _feelings_ for the damn kid and hell if that’s something to be taken lightly. 

“C’mon,” Yancy says again, and he’s nuzzling him like a cat, fingers still pressing deep. Tendo’s breath hitches and he leans forward, rolls the condom on slowly until Yancy is practically panting with longing, his hips bucking impatiently, and then he’s pushing forward and in and it’s almost too much. The burn and stretch, the feeling of hot, sweaty skin pressing against his. 

He sets a slow pace at first, pulling Tendo closer by his hips, his mouth tracing wet patterns against every bit of skin he can find, lips dragging and breath leaving warmth in its wake. He hits a particular angle, then, one he’s searched for in the past and Tendo gasps.

“Ah, _fuck_ , Yance,” Tendo hisses, hips jerking and right then there’s a sharp beep, a familiar one, one that Tendo’s used hundreds of time and he’s instantly clapping a hand over his mouth, breath whooshing harshly over his knuckles as he stares up at Yancy in shock and warning. Yancy just glances up at the ceiling, something like curiosity on his face before it clicks. His eyes slide down, looking at Tendo with something unreadable, and Tendo shakes his head vehemently. 

“ _No_ ,” he whispers, as assertive as he can, and from above them there’s the barely discernible echo, feedback crackling in the speakers.

Predictably Yancy pushes, experimentally, driving a little deeper into Tendo and he receives a startled gasp for his efforts. The speakers return the sound, loud and obnoxious to Tendo’s ears, freaking _mocking_ him. Yancy just has that grin on his face, the one reserved just for Tendo, the one that makes him feel like he’s going to be eaten alive. 

Tendo Choi is _not_ a goddamn buffet. 

His sweaty fingers scrabble at the console, rebellious against Yancy’s movements, searching for the command to turn the PA system back off, but he’s too distracted by the teeth nipping marks into his neck to properly turn his head and look, his attention too focused on trying to push down the whimpers and moans threatening to crawl out. Yancy doesn’t make any noise either, despite the fact that he has every opportunity to. Instead he just moves his hands here and there, thrusts a little harder in question, and every time he does so Tendo sucks in a sharp breath over the curve of his own fingers. 

Yancy’s lips find the spot behind his ear and he latches on, _sucks_ like the tricky bastard that he is and Tendo gasps, hips bucking again. One hand is still latched against his mouth, determined to keep himself quiet and the other scratches thin, angry red lines down Yancy’s back. If anything that just spurs Yancy on further, equally as determined to get him to make a noise, to broadcast it to the rest of the shatterdome. 

His orgasm sneaks up on him, sudden and violent and he chokes against his sweaty palm as muscles contract and his head smacks against the console, hips stuttering and the warm spurt of come painting his stomach. It’s too much, too much, the sensations and the effort to keep silent and on the wave of it he lets out a cry, hand finally slamming against the console with a hard, metallic smack. It reverberates through the speakers and for one brief moment, Tendo’s actually positive he’s going to die. Whether it’s from the orgasm itself or the pure humiliation of what’s just occurred remains to be seen. 

Above him, Yancy’s expression is triumphant, his hands on either side of Tendo’s head, sliding Tendo up the console more as his thrusts deepen, cock driving into him with increasing force. Tendo can barely think, every push sending pleasant, almost-overwhelming shocks through every nerve, his thighs shaking and fingers quivering. Yancy is gasping hard, hands musing up Tendo’s hair beyond recognition as he tugs at it, and then he’s throwing his head back, mouth wide and eyes closed and Tendo can only stare in vague, blissed-out bemusement. 

His fingers finally, blessedly, find the intercom and he clicks the button wearily, breathing hard. The static buzzing from the speakers switches off, as if it never existed, and his head thunks against the console. Gone are the harsh, shuddering silent gasps, replaced now by hoarse whimpers with every breath as he feebly tries to pull himself together. He feels boneless, satiated and embarrassed as hell, but there’s nothing to be done for it now. He can only lay there, spread out and tired.

Yancy finally pulls out after a few moments of panting into Tendo’s neck, basking in the warm glow of sex, and flops back down onto Tendo’s chair, wheels squeaking. It sinks down a few inches with a groan.

They sit there for a moment, gathering themselves.

“Y’think they heard us?” Yancy says then, and there’s a giddy smirk in his tone.

Tendo lifts his head to glare at him.

-

It’s a known fact that Stacker Pentecost’s stare can kill a man, and Tendo feels it on the back of his head for two weeks straight. 

Yancy just grins at him and hands him a cup of coffee as a peace offering, which Tendo only takes because he’s only had three so far today and has nothing to do with the way Yancy’s eyes twinkle, and the way their hands brush when they trade the cups.

Really.

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this](http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/1613.html?thread=2479693#t2479693) kink meme prompt: 
> 
> "I just want someone fucking Tendo against his LOCCENT console. I have preferences for Yancy/Tendo and Herc/Tendo, but anon can choose whoever they want. 
> 
> Bonus if during sex they trigger some sort of PA system, broadcasting their lovemaking to everyone else."


End file.
